My friendship with N always amazes me. She is a magical being. So am I, but we definitely have different magic. Mine is solid and practical; hers ethereal. She is physically beautiful in a way that I cannot even imagine being, even if I lose the 50 pounds, even if I had her choose all my clothes, even if I turned into her. I would remain rooted to the ground, solid, and sturdy. I will never have the delicate, finely wrought magic she has.

Yet, she loves me. We walk together in gardens and she helps me see and I think I help her see and we see more together. Sometimes I so desperately want to be beautiful in the way that she is. I search the internet for clothes like hers, knowing full well I will not be able to wear them in the same way.

So very silly of me, which I definitely know, but still, I persist, but not in that powerful, brave, RBG kind of way.

My hope is that if I know her long enough and keep accepting that someone with her kind of magic really can love someone with mine, that I’ll start to believe that I really do have some magic. I mean, I know I do, but it seems to fade away in the light that she throws off.

Fangirl much? Not too much. I’m mostly just analyzing energy and how it can be so very…varied. I know I’m lovable and have magic to share, otherwise I’d curl up and let myself blow away, but it certainly is easy to get distracted by someone so luminous.